


With All My Heart

by Ewo



Series: More Than Words [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alexios is Deimos (Assassin's Creed), F/M, Stentor works on his relationship with his new siblings, and I know the wiki says that the Cult groomed him but I left it out as it always felt odd, and tries to figure out love, brasidas is alive, character development is a thing because he was at war for 10 years and realises a couple of things, so a slightly changed canon, stentor has more walls around himself than anyone else tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:46:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24857833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ewo/pseuds/Ewo
Summary: The war is nearly over and Stentor has suddenly a family with a stepmother and stepsiblings, which is rather overwhelming. There is also the issue of marriage because he has to marry like a good Spartan to father healthy sons. But what about personal happiness and love?
Relationships: Brasidas/Kassandra (Assassin's Creed), Stentor/Original Female Character
Series: More Than Words [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1844425
Comments: 7
Kudos: 34





	1. I.

**Author's Note:**

> (Sorry for the rather formal way of writing. I am writing so many assignments for university at the moment that I feel like I have forgotten how to write average day English.)

He was hunting though luck was not on his side. It was the third deer that he missed by a significant margin. The arrow was stuck in a young tree and the deer long gone. Stentor allowed himself a tired sigh; he had never been a good hunter. The bow was a weapon that he did not favour. The speer, yes, and the sword as well. Weapons for a warrior. The bow always felt awkward in his hands. Though in truth he had only fled the city for the organised chaos, which had started to expand with the preparation of Hyacinthia. It was utterly overwhelming especially after years of war.

_“You have to aim true if you hunt, Polemarch.”_

Dressed in a one-shouldered, short chiton stepped Pherenike out between the bushes and trees. A bow and a quiver hung over her shoulders. Unmarried as she was, she wore her long hair open and only a golden-stitched band held it out of her face. In his opinion, she was a mortal Artemis. Beautiful, long-legged, fleet footed. Few men in Sparta called her Pherenike Agrotera to honour her unmatched ability as a huntress.

_“Maybe I should.”_

There was a gleam of amusement in her eyes. Pherenike was much as much trouble as his sister Kassandra. Stentor supposed that there was a reason why the two women became close friends in such a short time. Though where Kassandra showed outright distain for most Spartan customs, Pherenike was a true Spartan woman. Even if she was still unmarried, which was an oddity as she was already 25-years old. There had been a time, when they both had been younger, where he had fantasied about being married to her. She was beautiful and strong. Who would not wish to have her as their wife? Nowadays, he was utterly unsure about it. Of course, he still considered her as attractive, but she was as wild as Artemis herself. Few even speculated that she would announce sooner or later that she would become a priestess of Artemis. It would not be the highest honour for a Spartan woman, but it would be an honoured position, nonetheless.

_“Care to join me, Polemarch?”_

_“Join you to what?”_

_“To a hunt, of course.”_

_“I believe I will scare away all prey.”_

_“You never know if you do not try it, no?”_

And with that she vanished between the greenery again. While it appeared like it was, ultimately, his decision to join her on the hunt, Stentor felt like there was no choice. He would lose his face if he would not join her even if he would never manage to shoot anything. Pherenike was intelligent enough to know that he could not allow such an insult to his name.

With a tired sigh and a silent prayer to Artemis, to grant him the luck of the hunt, he followed the younger woman. Her white chiton appeared here and there in front of him, guiding him as he did not saw much else from her. Sometimes he caught sight of her russet hair. It was a darker shade than her father’s, Nikandros, whose hair was like a burning flame.

She led him deeper into the forest, at one-point Stentor even wondered if he would ever find his way out of it again, until he came upon her. She kneed in the grass, hiding behind some bushes, and signed him to be quiet. Squatting next to her, he followed her gaze. Two deer grazed in a clearing, utterly unaware of the hunters so close to them. But when he made a move to take his bow off his shoulder, he felt Pherenike’s hand upon his arm and she softly shook her head.

It was odd to watch the deer without hunting them. At least he had tried to hunt on his own earlier. The cry of an eagle, a soft of golden brown against the bright sky, caused the deer to flee. The woman next to him made no move to follow them.

_“Why?”_

_“Hm?”_

_“Why did you deny me to shoot one of them?”_

_“They are sacred to Artemis. Did you not see the white crown on their foreheads?”_

Truth to be told, he had not seen the white crowns. But then, he was a warrior and not a hunter even if he had been taught how to hunt in the agoge. It had been a necessity and he had never found joy in it unlike other boys.

_“Is it true what they say?”_

_“It depends on what is being said, isn’t it, Polemarch?”_

Her usage of his title, polemarch, was always something that Stentor found slightly irritating and odd. It was as if she was making fun of his accomplishments in the battlefield. Even if she never indicated anything in her voice to make it sound like she was amused by it. As if she was not able to view him as a decorated polemarch.

_“Your wish to become a priestess of Artemis.”_

_“Ahh.”_ There was a long silence afterwards as Pherenike watched two birds, they were small, black and had yellow beaks, but their name had escaped Stentor’s memory, before she stood up – as swiftly as a deer herself. _“The people tend to have the very … interesting habit of talking about things that they do not understand.”_

_“The most evasive answer I have ever heard. Quite Athenian.”_

Pherenike’s frown was more a snare than an actual frown. Quite Spartan. Most of them never accepted to be compared with Athenians who were considered as soft and weak. It was good to see that she was so Spartan.

_“It is my business, Stentor, if and when I wish to marry. Or if I wish to serve a Goddess for the rest of my life.”_

_“You know, just as well as I do, that it is not your business. There are laws, Pherenike, and you are already 25.”_

There was something in her dark eyes, which he never thought he would see. Fear. Pherenike was afraid? She was everything a Spartan unmarried woman was supposed to be. Fit, healthy, well-educated. It was said that her family was able to trace back their roots to the famous Herakles. Even if it was not true, it was known that her family was brave, honourable, and utterly loyal to Sparta. Pherenike being afraid was a stark contrast to the family’s values.

_“Says the man who does not abide to the laws as well. Unless you wish to proclaim your engagement shortly after the Hyacinthia?”_

Kassandra, who was as loud as a wild boar, came through the bushes. Leaves stuck in her braided hair. It never failed to surprise him how his stepsister was one of the most glorified and accomplished misthii in the world, but yet she was as graceful as a boar when it came to her behaviour in private. Though as ungraceful as she was, he always failed to read Kassandra’s face.

_“I smell a fight brewing in the air. What is going on here?”_

_“Your brother is an insolent man who loves to lecture everyone in his surroundings.”_

_“Ah yes, one of his many flaws, I am afraid.”_ Dark eyes mustered Stentor critically. Sometimes it felt like Athena herself was watching him. It was unsettling. _“A true Spartan has to be like this, and a true Spartan has to be like that.”_ The words were mocking. Kassandra never honoured the traditions even if she was a Spartan by blood and citizenship. She was no Spartan by heart. _“It is just surprising that you find him impossible when it comes to it as well. I always thought that it is just me who finds it annoying as I am no true Spartan. Or am I not, Stentor?”_

Being with Kassandra was always exhausting. She was hard and rarely forgiving. Just like her arrogance was rarely held in check. Wherever he accomplished something that granted him the praise of his pater, and of Myrrine, she was set to do something even greater to gain the spotlight. It was less exhausting to be with their brother – Alexios – though the man still portraited sometimes a love for violence. From what Stentor had gathered on his own and from eavesdropping on Kassandra and Myrrine, he had managed to piece together a half-way complete puzzle of Alexios’ life within the Cult. It sounded like a never-ending nightmare though Stentor would never tell anyone about his pity towards his stepbrother.

_“Where are you going, little brother?”_

_“Leaving before I break your nose. If it gets broken again, it might diminish your prospect to marry at all.”_

_“Gods, you little shit!”_

_“No, Kassandra.”_

A quick glance over his shoulder revealed a red-faced Kassandra who was seething with anger and the wish to wrestle with him. Their relationship was still the most uncomfortable one, and tip-toed between ‘not exactly love’ and ‘not exactly hate either’. What did surprise him though was the fact that Pherenike had grabbed one of Kassandra’s arms in an attempt to hold her back. And where Kassandra was fuming, the younger woman was calm, almost serene, although they had argued just moments earlier as well. He could not read her expression though.


	2. II.

Stentor had kept his distance from Pherenike. The Hyacinthia made it easy and difficult at the same time. She was there during the first day, the day of grief. Plain sacrificial bread. Sacrifices to the dead. Sacrifices to the gods. The air was rich with the smell of blood and the bleating of the sacrificial goats. She was also there during the second day. At least he spotted her russet hair from time to time when the dances were performed.

Though why he was in the stadium now, he could not explain. His interest in any kind of horse race was marginal and his presence during the previous celebrations of Hyacinthus should be enough to excuse his absence during the horse race. And yet here he was.

_“I wonder, dearest brother, why you are here.”_

Kassandra blocked the sun and the man at her side sighed softly as if he was dreading another argument between the siblings. The famous Brasidas, the Spartan hero, adored, loved, Kassandra as much as he disliked the arguments between her and her brothers. Where Kassandra was loud and brash, was Brasidas quiet and soft. Stentor still thought of it as odd to see these two together. And yet there was something soft in her eyes whenever she looked at Brasidas.

_“I could ask you the same, dearest sister.”_

_“Well, unlike you, I have no need to participate in the race.”_

_“I do not have it either.”_

Her smile told him that she knew something that he did not. And it would not end well for him. Kassandra always played two or three games at once. Alexios was a brute. Kassandra was a brute with a brain.

_“Are you sure, dearest brother? Pherenike participates.”_

_“Why should it concern me?”_

_“Because she announced that she would marry the man who would beat her in this race.”_

As much as he wanted to laugh about it, there was something rumbling in his guts. It felt like the great Phyton was moving through them, upsetting his stomach on her course. Why was he feeling like it? Though it was explaining why so many young men were preparing themselves down there. Pherenike was by far the better price than a wreath made of laurels.

_“What?”_

_“Oh, you did not know …?”_

There was mocking in her voice as she sat down next to him, and ignored her lover’s _‘Kassandra, he is your brother, behave’_ just as well. As if it meant anything that they were siblings.

_“He is also a donkey, Brasidas, who fancies Pherenike. I would have expected him to participate and win the race. Honour to Apollo and the option to marry her.”_

_“As if anyone could beat her in a horse race. It is like running against Atalanta.”_

Plenty of rumours regarded Pherenike’s future. Plenty of rumours also regarded her father. She was as unmatched in her ability to handle horses as she was as unmatched as huntress. It had led to the speculation that her father was no mortal man but the god Poseidon himself.

Whatever his sister wished to say though, she kept it to herself as young Praxiteles, Pherenike’s older and only brother, came up the few banks that separated them from Pherenike’s mother and sisters. At least he understood now why they were here. Nikandros sat with men of his agoge. It was something that was expected from Stentor as well, but there were times where he preferred to be alone. Or just had to endure his sister and the quiet Brasidas.

_“Generals!”_

_“Praxiteles, how are you and your wife?”_

There was a hint of worship in the young man’s eyes upon recognising Kassandra. Everyone loved her. It was something that he still could not understand. She was the most arrogant woman he ever met. Although she was a useful tool for the Sparta, Stentor supposed.

_“Fine, thank you, General. She is with child.”_

_“Congratulations. May it be a healthy and strong son.”_

_“I pray for it every day.”_

It was the issue with the family. Even if they were supposed descendants from Herakles and even if Pherenike was the supposed daughter of Poseidon. It was also said that the family was cursed as every generation bore plenty of healthy daughters, often only one son. It was not a good sign and many expectations rested on Praxiteles’ shoulders, but also on his sisters’ shoulders to marry and bear sons.

_“Is it true, Praxiteles, that your sister will marry the man who will beat her in the horse race?”_

_“Yes.”_ Satisfaction gleamed in Kassandra’s eyes upon the positive answer. _“Much to the dismay of the Elders, I have been told.”_

_“Why are they so upset? Did I miss the introduction of a law?”_

Interest shown in the older man’s eyes. As much honour Brasidas had brought to Sparta, the man seemed to prefer to be everywhere but in Sparta. It was a sentiment Kassandra shared with him. It was something Stentor could not understand. Which place was better than Sparta?

_“No, there is no new law that would exactly forbid her to participate. And there is no law, which would forbid her to utter such a challenge.”_

Praxiteles’ blush, which had appeared at the announce of his wife’s pregnancy, only deepened with every word of Stentor’s answer. So, someone was not pleased with his sister’s challenge. It did not surprise him at all. Pherenike’s challenge was bold and was tip-toing along the lines of being impolite.

 _“The real issue, Brasidas, is that everyone knows that no man can beat her. Only the Tamer of Horses could manage it.”_ Kassandra was harsher in her words than Stentor had been. _“It is a farce that upsets the Elders. They expect her to either become a priestess or just marry someone. Anyone.”_

Movement came into the crowd that had gathered at the starting line. Most men were already on the back of their horses. Pherenike’s russet hair was like fire in the summer sun. She rode a beautiful stallion. A long, upright neck and rather long ears. It stood higher than the horses of the men though it seemed to be fine boned. The most astonishing was the coat. It was a gleaming gold as if the entire horse had been bathed in gold. Was it one of Apollo’s horses that drew his chariot? It was the most beautiful horse Stentor had seen and by the murmurs around him, he was not alone with feeling.

_“Generals, Eagle Bearer, I will take my leave. It seems like the race will begin shortly.”_

Praxiteles rushed towards his family, whispering in hushed but urgent words with his mother. It was most likely about Pherenike and her horse. Only Kassandra sat with a satisfied smile next to him. Of course, she was involved in this.

_“Where did you acquire such a horse, sister?”_

_“What makes you think that it was me? Maybe the Gods granted Pherenike such a horse. Could be one of Apollo’s chariot, could it not?”_

_“Because of your smile. You are involved.”_

_“That is a serious accusation, little brother.”_

Where Pherenike’s usage of ‘Polemarch’ always felt like she was mocking him, Kassandra’s usage of ‘Brother’ felt like an insult. Though his own usage of ‘Sister’ was not any better. Maybe it was no surprise that Brasidas was annoyed by his lover and her brothers.

_“Of course, she is involved, Stentor. She bought the horse from a Persian in Korinth.”_

_“You are ruining the fun I have, ta matia mou.”_

_“He is still your brother; you do not need to antagonise each other all the time.”_

Stentor was not sure what caused Kassandra not to argue with her lover. The expression on his face? The hand on her knee? The slight tilt of his head? It was something that he did not understand. Was it the love between them?

_“It is named Xanthos like one of Achilles’ horses. And yes, I bought him in Korinth.”_

_“Why though? You have no love for horses. In fact, you ruined quite a few by bad riding.”_

Anger flashed in Kassandra’s dark eyes and Brasidas sighed softly: _‘Siblings’_. Pointing out his sister’s flaws was always a very secure way to anger her. She was hot-headed and easy to goad. Her temperament and her arrogance were evenly matched.

 _“The horse was never meant for me and always for her”_ , she jerked her chin towards the ground of the stadium. _“To avoid marrying some idiot just because a law dictates it.”_

_“The law –”_

_“Please, could you two stop bickering with each other all the time? You are siblings! And the race is about to start.”_

Pherenike won the horse race with ease and quite some distance between her and the men. No matter the horse’s origin, may it be an immortal horse which was granted by Apollo himself or indeed from Persia, it was undeniable fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Xanthos is an Akhal-Teke or well … an oriental horse in general but the Akhal-Teke is an oriental breed just like the Arabian. And the Greeks knew the Nisean, which is considered as one of the anchestors of the Akhal-Teke. In fact, they called it after the city of Nisa where it was bred. The Nisean was considered as the most beautiful horse back then and was the most valuable as well. Greeks, especially Spartans, imported them and bred them with their native stock. I am using this piece of history to incorporate Xanthos in this story. Unfortunately the Nisean became extinct in 1204. 
> 
> I went with the Akhal-Teke for its coat: https://img.theepochtimes.com/assets/uploads/2020/03/13/Horse-Pure-Gold-i-700x420.jpg
> 
> Ta matia mou = lit. “my eyes” as term of endearment


	3. III.

There were times where Stentor missed the past. The days of quietness because the house was just a home to Nikolaos and him. These days had been always productive. He could not say exactly the same about the days nowadays with a family. It was odd to have siblings even if the instructors at the agoge would say that his fellow Spartiates are his siblings. Maybe, Stentor mused, it was true for boys who grew up with siblings and a family. Not that Nikolaos had not been his family all these years. The older man had taken him under his wing, raising him, teaching him, feeding him, and adopting him formally at one point. But to have a stepmother, it was difficult to think of Myrrine as a mother although she tried so hard to be one for all three of them, and stepsiblings was so utterly different from growing up in the agoge with boys of his age. The house never seemed big enough for all of them. Kassandra was a force of nature with a voice like thunder – especially when she was upset. Or laughing. Alexios was a barely pardoned war criminal, most men feared him and evaded him in public, who was still Deimos on some days and not Alexios. Madness and sanity lay close together for him.

Though the quietness was unsettling nowadays as he was used to a house, which was never big enough for all of them. Alexios left, no one knew where he was, and Kassandra spent most of her time with Brasidas. The polemarch was the owner of his own house where he lived by now. And Kassandra had never cared about rules and the image they were presenting. Stentor had to admit though that she seemed happy with Brasidas, and the older man was softening Kassandra’s rough edges. He also felt jealous of their obvious happiness and love. Even if the kings were not pleased about the arrangement. Though there was so little that they could do; displeasing both of them would just end with Brasidas and Kassandra leaving to live somewhere else.

_“Stentor! Is Mater here?”_

_“No. She said that she was go to the market. Did something happen?”_

As much as Myrrine still did not feel like a mother, he still did not wish her any harm. She was kind. Called him ‘lamb’ and ‘son’ even if he never called her ‘mater’. She even gave his pater another chance. It was a slow return to what they had once upon a time.

 _“No.”_ Kassandra without armour was like a turtle without its shell. It was an odd sight. _“Where is Pater?”_

_“I think at the palace.”_

_“Good.”_

_“Could you stop dancing around what you want to say? It is an irritating habit.”_

Her grin was positively shit-eating and Stentor knew that the topic was something, which would concern him somehow. At least it would concern him in Kassandra’s opinion. It always made him wary. It also made him wary when she sat across him.

_“So, you have not heard about it yet?”_

_“Get to the point.”_

_“Do not be so impatient, brother. Patience is a Spartan virtue.”_

_“If you do not get to the point, I will throw you into the sea for the sharks. You are the bane of my existence.”_

Normally they would argue with each other afterwards. A smiling, also serene, Kassandra was something that worried Stentor a lot. Something happened. It could not be the death of someone or the return to war. Such news travelled fast and she would not smile about it.

_“Your beloved announced that she would become a priestess of Aphrodite Areia.”_

His thoughts wandered automatically to Pherenike. A priestess of Aphrodite the Warlike? While Aphrodite was the Goddess of Love and Beauty in all of Greece, she was also connected with her darker and more violent nature in Sparta: war. Ares’ beloved. She was honoured in Sparta, but it was such an odd choice for Pherenike. Becoming a priestess of Artemis or Apollo would have been more suiting for her. Even Poseidon would have been more suiting. But Pherenike was not his beloved.

_“My beloved? Did I miss my own wedding?”_

_“Are you really so dumb or do you like to act like you are it?”_ Kassandra’s words were followed by a slap on one of his hands. Normally she would go for his head. _“Pherenike, of course, you idiot.”_

_“Why are you so set upon the idea that I should marry her? I talk with her a couple of times and suddenly you see non-existing possibilities.”_

_“Why are you so against the idea? She is as beautiful as she is clever. Let her hunt and let her take care of her horses, and she will be the best wife you could wish for! She is also my friend and I want her to be happy.”_

_“And why do you think that I would become her happiness?”_

_“Because if you would pull the stick out of your arse and just live for once without suffocating beneath your pride and stubbornness, I do believe that you are not such a horrible person. Pater would have not adopted you if you were one.”_

Although they were by far the nicest words she ever said to him, in fact they could even be interpreted as a compliment, it still ruffled his feathers. He was not prideful!

_“Also, you have to marry soon. You will turn 40 next summer. You have to marry, Stentor, or you will lose many of your rights.”_

_“Says the one who is just as unmarried as I am.”_

_“We both know that Spartan laws have no meaning for me.”_ Which was most likely true as Kassandra did not care about Sparta in the same way he did. _“And Brasidas fulfilled his duty. There is no need for us to marry or think about children. You have to think about it though, Stentor.”_

The war had been on his side when it came to the issue of marriage. But after the Battle of Amphipolis, everyone was expecting that a peace treaty would be signed. There was no reason for his prolonged Bachelorhood anymore. And while Myrrine would never force him, he was sure of it, he knew that his pater was waiting for the day when his son would marry. Because no one expected the youngest, Alexios, to marry and settle down.

_“I know that it is common to subordinate personal feelings and happiness for Sparta, you do not need to lecture me about it, but would it hurt to marry someone who would make you happy as well? I see the way you look at her, Stentor, you like her. You both come from respected families, no one would say something against the marriage.”_

Tracing the annual rings of the tree, which had become a table in the house of Leonidas, with fingers, Stentor felt unsure what to say to his sister. Of course, he liked Pherenike. While she was as wild as a doe, she was as beautiful as Aphrodite and as clever as Athena in his opinion. Ten years ago, though it felt like ages by now, his mind had often entertained the idea of marrying her as soon as she was of age. What would have been three or four more years of wait if it had meant a lifetime together afterwards? But the war had prolonged, longer than anyone had estimated it, and he felt like he was too old by now. Who could promise that he was even able to father a son? And the idea of sharing her with another man caused his guts to cramp up.

 _“Think about it, brother.”_ For once it did not feel mocking. _“As priestess to Aphrodite she is still allowed to marry. Priesthood will grant her a break from suitors, but it will not last forever.”_

The younger one did not look up when Kassandra left the house. It felt like a snake was moving through his guts.

He still sat at the table, tracing the annual rings even if he knew their position by now, when Myrrine came back from the market. The basket filled with fruits and vegetables. It was placed at the end of the table before she came to him.

 _“You look worried, lamb.”_ Her hand was cool when she cupped the cheek that was facing her. _“What is on your mind, Stentor, to worry you so much?”_

 _“Nothing”_ was the sighed answer. _“Everything.”_

 _“Rather vague, my son.”_ There it was again. Her ease with which she considered him as her child. _“What troubles you?”_

_“Kassandra.”_

_“What has she done?”_

_“Nothing. She came to talk about marriage.”_

_“Does she plan to marry Brasidas?”_

_“No, she came to talk with me about me being unmarried.”_

_“I see.”_ He felt like she was his mother when she kissed his forehead and gave his braid a small tuck. Why did feelings have to be so complicated? _“Your father expects you to marry, I am sure you do know it, but … follow your own heart, my son, and not what society dictates. Your personal happiness is more important.”_

_“And if I wish to marry?”_

_“Then marry the woman you love. Be happy, lamb, grant me a bunch of grandchildren, and grow old and grey. But even if you do not wish to marry, just be happy.”_

Be happy. As if it would be so easy to be happy. Though his sister did seem happy with Brasidas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In 421 BC took the Peace of Nicias place, which lasted six years. And Stentor was bore before 461 BC though I let him be born on 461 BC, so he was 30-years old (the age he could become an officer/polemarch) in 431 BC when Kassandra meets him for the first time. Technically Brasidas should be dead, even historically, but I cannot do this to Kassandra as she cares too much about him. (Ubisoft, I will never forgive you for not being able to romance him. I can fuck 99% of Greece but not him.) So, the game is set in 422 BC, more or less shortly after the Battle of Amphipolis.
> 
> Myrrine must be around 60-years old in 422 as she was alive when her father died in 480 BC. The wiki site just mentions “active” from 480 BC to 422 BC (and given the fact that no one knows if she was real as only a son is mentioned in history). Given that Brasidas seems to know Myrrine more personally than a “yeah heard about her”-kinda way, I would say he’s in his mid-50s. I know that Kassandra is supposed to be born in 458 BC and Alexios in 453 BC, so they would be both younger than Stentor but Kassandra has ‘Elder Sibling’ energy, so in this story she is older than Stentor (changing the birth to 463 BC). Alexios can stay the much younger brother.


	4. IV.

_“Polemarch.”_

_“Priestess.”_

A small smile was on Pherenike’s lips as she sat down next to him. They were both quiet as they sat in the grass and watched down towards the sea. The rolling hills that surrounded Sparta were his preferred place when he wished to be alone. His mare, Nikephoros, grazed near-by. Her reins loosely bound to the branch of a small tree. She was smaller and stockier than Pherenike’s long-legged stallion. The difference between his horse, which came from Thessaly like most Spartan horses, and hers was gigantic.

_“He is beautiful.”_

_“Most stubborn horse I ever had.”_ There was love in those words, which told Stentor that the young woman did not mind the animal’s stubbornness at all. _“I still believe that Kassandra talked Apollo into giving him up.”_

_“I would not be surprised if she did even if she claims that she bought him.”_

Her smile was brighter than the sun itself. Could he make her happy? He was able to make her smile, which was a beginning. Memories of his birth parents were hazy, but he did remember his mother’s laugh whenever his father told a joke. What he did remember were his instructors in the agoge who taught all of them that it would be their duty to marry healthy Spartan women and father strong sons. It stood in a stark contrast to his vague memories of his birth parents and Myrrine’s words.

_“What brings you out here, polemarch?”_

_“The quietness.”_

Kassandra’s talk with him about marriage was nearly three weeks ago. Summer was ending and he still did not know what to do. Happiness. What meant it to be happy? Sure, he was delighted if his men won and lived to fight in another battle. But was it happiness?

_“How do you cope with having suddenly two siblings?”_

_“It is … different.”_

Having suddenly two siblings was a change he still found difficult to deal with. The return, the official announcement of their return, of Nikolaos’ children had caused sleepless nights. Would his pater tell him that he would not be his son anymore? Alexios’ was his blood son, his rightful heir. Even Kassandra would have more rights to any inheritance than him. She was the oldest.

_“A rather vague answer, polemarch. How do you feel? Are you happy?”_

There it was again. Was he happy? Was he happy to have an older sister and a younger brother? Of course, there had been a time where he had wished that his pater would marry again and father other children to give him siblings to play with. To protect. To be able to rely on them. Siblings granted one a net of safety as they were the most natural allies.

_“I … it is different and overwhelming.”_

Nikolaos had not made him an orphan again but there was still the uncertainty of having his pater’s first children as siblings. Was Alexios considered as heir to everything? Or Kassandra who would be expected to marry her cousin, Paramonos, upon their pater’s death as it was tradition? She was the oldest after all. Although Stentor thought that she would never follow the law, the tradition, and set Brasidas aside for a marriage with Paramonos. Especially since she was not married to Brasidas. What about him? What would he inherit? His lack of marriage was already a stain on Nikolaos’ name, no matter what Myrrine said, but if he would be denied any kind of inheritance, then he would never be able to marry as he could not pay a suitable bride price.

 _“My situation is different because I know my siblings since their birth or well … my birth. I like to do certain activities with my four sisters as it strengthens our bond. It is easier to do with them than with my brother.”_ Her gaze was fixed on the sea, on the horizon. Apparently, the issues between her and Praxiteles were not one-sided on the younger man’s side. _“They do not share my love for hunting or horses, but we found that we all enjoy swimming, so we ride regularly to the sea. Although sometimes we just sit at the beach and talk or collect shells. Maybe there is something that you have in common with Kassandra and Alexios? Something which helps to understand each other better?”_

Stentor nodded slowly. There was nothing he could think of at the moment, which he could share with his new siblings, but it did not mean that there was nothing. Something different than bickering and wrestling with each other.

_“I have to be honest though, polemarch. There are days where you will wish your siblings to Hades because they annoy the shit out of you.”_

He had to laugh at her words. Wishing his siblings to Hades was a feeling he was awfully familiar with. Both of them, though Kassandra managed it more regularly, were always getting on his nerves and pissing him off. Kassandra even found joy in it.

 _“Well, we are already there.”_ A smile tugged at her full lips and a part of him wondered how it would be to kiss her. _“Why are you here though?”_

_“I like the quietness as well.”_

The russet hair was braided into a loose but thick braid, which led over her back. She was wearing her one-shouldered chiton as well. Exposing her long and muscular legs. Something was different about her and Stentor could not pinpoint it. Was it sadness? Or just exhaustion?

_“Is the temple so loud?”_

_“It is … different. Four younger sisters are nothing in comparison to twenty younger girls who live in the temple. Their chatter never seems to cease.”_

_“Remembers me of my time in the agoge. Young boys are rather talkative as well.”_

_“Praxiteles never uttered a word about his time but … I think that men and women are not so different from time to time. Especially when they were young, careless, and slightly reckless. One of the older boys from the agoge sneaked into the temple to raid our storage.”_

_“He was caught?”_

_“Yes. I was sent to get honey wine as sacrifice and encountered him. Stood still like a deer during a thunderstorm and starred at me with such fear in his eyes.”_

_“They expect punishment when getting caught while stealing.”_

_“I know. I did not punish him; he was so tiny and skinny. Told him to be more careful next time and to raid the storage in the evening when we are performing rituals. Does it make me a bad Spartan?”_

_“Yes.”_ It was the unwritten law that the agoge boys would have to be punished when someone caught them stealing. _“But it shows that you are kind. There were days when I wished that someone would grant me kindness. Especially during the winter when I was starving and had to resort to stealing.”_

Stentor was not sure why he was telling such a personal and private bit about himself. No one knew how he felt during his time of the agoge. Of course, it was an important part of Sparta. It formed Sparta. But he was an adult and felt a lot different about it nowadays. As a young boy he had always been angry and willing to fight even if his rival had been older and much heavier. It had been his way of coping with the fact that he was without parents, dead because of a fight and sickness, and alone in society, where his parentage was worth shit.

_“Were you often caught?”_

_“A couple of times especially when I was just eight or nine years old. By far less often when I was older. Brasidas caught me once sneaking into his parents’ house to steal bread and cheese.”_

_“What did he do? He does not strike me as a cruel man.”_

_“Shook his head in disappointment, which is worse to a boy than any physical punishment, led me take the bread and cheese, and told me to be more careful the next time.”_

Although Stentor had been a soldier under Brasidas’ command for a couple of years, the older man had never mentioned the incident in all these years. Serving under Brasidas had taught him personally a lot, sometimes more than he had learned in the agoge, even if the first weeks had been filled with dread. Would the older one offer him the position as eromenos? It was common knowledge that many men picked out the more handsome youths in their groups to become their erastes. Brasidas never did. Yes, he taught all the young men equally that were under his command, but he never expected anything in return.

_“It sounds like he is a kind man.”_

_“He is.”_ In some way Stentor was looking up to the other polemarch. _“May I ask you a question?”_

_“Of course.”_

_“Why did you become a priestess of Aphrodite?”_

_“Because it allows me still to marry. Well, if the man, I would like to marry, would ever find his courage to ask my father. If he does not find it … there is a good chance that I will become the High Priestess one day as the current one is my aunt.”_

It was news to him that Pherenike still wished to marry despite being a priestess of Aphrodite. Many priestesses, even the ones of Aphrodite and Hera, were not married although the latter were explicitly allowed to marry unlike priestess of Athena or Artemis. It was also news to him that she also knew whom she would like to marry. It was like a stab into his heart. Who was the man she would like to marry? Even if he was a coward?

_“May I ask you a question in return?”_

_“Yes.”_

His mind was still on the latest information. Who was the man Pherenike would like to marry? Was it someone he knew? One of his syssitia? A handful of them were still unmarried or already widowers. Alkaios? Kyrillos? Diokles? All three had mentioned after the famous horse race that they would like to marry Pherenike. Her dowry was not to be scoffed at. Her lineage was pure Spartiates. And fertility could also be presumed given her extensive family even if there was the issue of a lack of sons within the family.

_“Is it true that the army will leave again?”_

_“Yes. We are supposed to push the Athenians into signing a peace treaty.”_

Pherenike was silent for a long time though he felt her dark eyes upon him. She was as difficult, if not even impossible, to read just like Kassandra. Was she worrying about the man she wished to marry?

_“Good luck, polemarch, and come back with your shield and not on it.”_

Stentor watched her as she went to her golden horse and rode back towards the city. Why did she wish him to come back alive and not dead? For the sake of his family?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stentor’s horse (which is technically a stallion but well … you get the idea how a Thessalian pony/horse looked like as the breed is pretty endangered): https://i.pinimg.com/originals/5a/c2/ec/5ac2ec5903948594b2d060ec872cfcc7.jpg


	5. V.

Kassandra announced herself often in the same way, mused Stentor, when Ikaros landed on his shoulder. Much to the awe of his men who never seemed to fail to be impressed by the oversized chicken. Stentor guessed that the eagle was aware of his effect and enjoyed being in the spotlight. Stretching out his wings to show everyone how beautiful he was. The bird was as arrogant and vain as his owner.

_“Go to your perch, Ikaros, you are too heavy.”_

With a chirp, the eagle hopped from the shoulder onto the wooden pole. Stentor was not sure if his sister would recognise it as a sign of peace, but he had given orders to erect such a perch for Ikaros outside of his tent. Kassandra cared about the bird.

_“Iason, continue with your report.”_

His scout’s throat bounced up and down a couple of times before the young man, Stentor did not know his age, but a good guess was around 20, cleared his throat and continued with his report. They were in Korinthia to ensure that the Athenians would not try anything. It was not a war like the previous years, more a couple of skirmishes. It was taxing and when he was alone, in the middle of the night, he was wishing to be back home. No one knew about his feelings, of course, as it was unbecoming of a polemarch to wish for peace and to return home. Fame and glory could only be found in battle. Pherenike could only be found in Sparta.

_“Stentor!”_

One of his soldiers was trailing Kassandra who was making her way up the small hill upon which he had his tent. She was alone, which he found odd. Normally Brasidas was always with her. Sometimes Alexios although the man tended to travel more and more often on his own.

 _“Hello Kassandra.”_ He gave a piece of dried lamb to Ikaros who was as greedy as always. _“Thank you, Iason.”_ Another piece of dried meat for the bird. _“We will resume our talk later; I wish to speak with my sister alone. Philandros, back to your post.”_

Stentor waited until his scout was at the foot of the hill, Philandros on his way back to the gate, and the other three men with whom he had listen to Iason’s report back to their tents. Kassandra was starring at Ikaros’ perch.

_“What brings you to me? And where is Brasidas?”_

_“Did you build the perch?”_

_“Yes.”_

Maybe he could not find something to share with his new siblings, unlike Pherenike who went regularly to the beach with her sisters, but maybe their relationship would become less exhausting and rocky if he tried to be kinder? Kassandra cared about Ikaros and about Phobos.

_“Why?”_

_“Well for Ikaros. He always lands on my shoulder and I thought a perch might be more comfortable for him.”_

There was no ‘thank you’ or ‘wonderful idea’, but Stentor thought that his stepsister looked softer and kinder than before. Either she valued his gesture or the light was playing tricks on his mind.

_“Why are you here though?”_

_“The Kings sent me. They thought that you might … require my assistance for some tasks. Pater and Brasidas believe that their reason is bullshit.”_ When she walked towards him, invading his personal space, his heart skipped a beat like it did often. She was scary. _“I was also tasked to give you this.”_

Her face was unreadable when she pressed something into his hand. It was a beautiful seashell. It came from a scallop. Its outside was a soft pink, fading into white, and still shimmered in a soft mother-of-pearl colour on the inside. It was on a leather band, making it a necklace.

 _“It is from Pherenike.”_ He could not hide his smile when he brushed his thumb across the shell’s ridges. _“It seems like you know its meaning because she did not tell me anything else.”_

 _“Thank you for delivering it.”_ While he could not fathom why Pherenike had gifted him such a pendant, he still appreciated it. Shells were a symbol of Aphrodite. It was also said that gifting someone a seashell meant to wish good fortune on the person. Maybe it was to ensure that he would return? _“But I have no task for you. There is no Athenian army that advances on us. The forts are ours or they are ruins, which are useless to anyone. Feel free to scout the area or to go into villages and listen to gossip if you want to do something, but I have no task for you.”_

Kassandra’s already strong jaw line became even sharper when she pressed her teeth together. It was the only sign of her anger. Despite all their bickering, Stentor could understand her. Riding out, even she would need several days for the distance, on the order of the kings for nothing was frustrating. His thumb caressed the shell in his hand while wishing that he would be somewhere else.

_“Would you join me for dinner later?”_

_“Join you for –”_ Her eyes moved to his hand, which held the shell. Pherenike was their common ground. _“Yes, I will. I hope the helot in this camp knows how to cook unlike the last time.”_

_“I was told that underdone chicken is a delicacy.”_

_“Where? In Egypt? They eat flamingo tongues there from what I know, underdone chicken sounds reasonable for them.”_

The younger one made no attempt to hide his amused grin at her words. Egypt was a country, which always felt far away but fascinated half of Greece anyways with their strange gods, their pyramids, and the endless deserts. It was a country full of madness and wonder.

 _“I will see you later, sister.”_ It was odd to say the word without meaning it as an insult or to mock her. _“Tell the quartermaster that you require a tent.”_

_“Aah, you do not want me sharing a tent with you?”_

_“You snore, Kassandra, as if you are a bear who hibernates. You, and Alexios, costed me many hours of sleep.”_

Ikaros chirped as if he was laughing about the words while Kassandra was leaving the hill. Laughing as well. And she shouted over her shoulder towards him _“You are getting old, baby brother!”_. The sharp edge of the seashell reminded him of Pherenike, her words, and his resolution to be kinder towards his siblings. Even if Kassandra was the bane of his existence.

_***_

She was there in the evening. In his tent. Looking over the map of Korinthia and the small figures, which represented his men, other Spartan camps, the several forts and the few Athenian soldiers they have spotted.

_“Why do the Kings sent me to help you if there is nothing to do? I feel like I am missing something important to see the whole picture.”_

Stentor placed the two bowls of lamb stew and the fresh bread on a second table, which was empty save for two wine cups and a small wine jug. Korinthian red was softer and sweeter than the wine at home. He preferred it over the slightly sharp wine from Lacedaemon. He gave her a filled cup, which Kassandra drowned by far too quickly.

_“I do not know if it is the reason for their behaviour but … well, there is no kind way to say it. They hate you because you spat on the traditions.”_

_“What? I fought for Sparta!”_

_“Yes, but you do not honour her traditions. The unwritten and written laws. Kassandra, you live with Brasidas without being married to him. Some men of the Gerousia demand that he marries again to father more sons.”_

_“But he has two boys and a girl! He did his fucking duty!”_ Red coloured her face and the red linen of the tent increased the effect more. _“He has given enough. I have given enough. Why is it not enough?”_

Nothing he could say would be a good enough answer. One answer would be ‘He has not died in battle like expected’, which would not change anything. Another answer would be ‘You do not bow your head towards them like expected’, which would also change nothing. There was no answer he could give her that would be enough. Maybe it was the crux of a life for Sparta. Only death was enough. Pherenike’s scallop necklace felt heavy around his neck.


	6. VI.

Despite his hopes that a peace treaty would be signed quickly, so they could have returned home before the new year, the ‘war that was not quite a war’ had dragged on. They were involved in a couple of small skirmishes with the Athenians, but they were always short and ended often with the Athenians fleeing. A few years ago, he would have ordered his men to follow them and kill them. He did not bother with it anymore. Their lines were as thinned out as the Athenians and they could not risk losing more soldiers.

It was mid-spring when the peace treaty was finally signed by General Nicias. It was the end of spring, early summer, when they finally left Korinthia to return home. Home. Stentor was not sure what would expect him there. He was 40 by now. Would he be stripped of command because he was still unmarried? Was Pherenike married? The only message he had received in all these months had been from Myrrine. Kassandra had swallowed all her pride and had married Brasidas. No one expected a child out of this union, his sister was too old with her 41-years, soon to be 42-years, but it would calm the minds of the Gerousia and the Ephoroi.

They were welcomed with warmth. No matter how often non-Spartans would say that a mother would tell her son ‘With it or on it.’, every woman was glad to have their husband, son or another relative back alive. And Myrrine, even if she was not his mother by birth, was there to welcome him. The scallop around his neck reminded him that, maybe, he should try to be kinder towards her as well. So, he kissed her cheek and thanked her before he made his way towards the temples of Athena and Aphrodite to thank them for their protection. A goat for Athena, and six white doves for Aphrodite.

It was late afternoon by the time he was gone with the rituals and could excuse himself from his family to seek some quietness. It was always easier to think if there were no siblings to argued over food. And there was the kind of freedom of being without armour, though he felt naked without it, and weapons. As naked as he felt without it, it was also liberating to sit in the grass, looking to sea, just wearing a chiton, sandals, and the scallop necklace.

 _“Polemarch.”_ It did not feel like Pherenike was mocking him this. _“Stentor.”_

 _“Hello Priestess.”_ After all she was still wearing her long chiton, which was so unusual in his opinion. The russet hair was braided and decorated with pins and a golden head band. She was a mortal representation of Aphrodite. _“Pherenike.”_

Unlike the previous times, she sat closer to him and he felt out of his depth. How was his sister able to be so relaxed around Brasidas? How was even Alexios able to flirt with a few women when he had one of his good days? Or how did the married men of his syssitia approach their wives? Such things were not taught in the agoge.

_“I see that you got my gift.”_

_“Yes.”_ It was unconscious when he touched the scallop. It had become a charm for him in these last months. _“Thank you.”_

He felt awkward and uncomfortable. Of course, plenty of nights and daydreams, especially on the ride back, had been filled with Pherenike. How he would ask her to marry him. How he would ask her father for her hand. Of a life as married couple. His age meant that he was not required to sleep in the barracks anymore. It was different to be with her in person though. His tongue felt tied together and the snakes were active in his gut again.

_“My pleasure.”_

Her smile was everything. There was a faint dimple on the left side. Fine lines around her eyes from smiling and laughing too much. She was gorgeous and all he wanted to do was to kiss her. Tell her how beautiful she was. Tell her that he was trying to be better with his siblings because of her words even if it was the most complicated thing he had done so far. Tell her that he was also trying to be kinder towards his stepmother, to replicate her love and warmth. Tell her about Myrrine’s advise to be happy.

All he did was nothing. Just sitting too close to her, being enchanted by her smile, and to look at the sea.

_“I have something for you.”_

_“Oh? What is it?”_

There was curiosity gleaming in her dark eyes. And the item, wrapped in a soft piece of cloth, felt heavy in his pocket. It was custom to exchange gifts to signal the wish to marry the person, but Stentor was utterly unsure if her necklace was meant to be such a gift. Or if he interpreted too much into it. He hoped that it was not noticeable how much his hands were shaking when he opened the soft linen to reveal the bracelet.

_“May I?”_

_“Yes.”_

The left arm was said to be the heart’s arm, which was why Stentor wrapped the ivory bracelet around Pherenike’s left wrist. He had found it in a town on the way back and it was worth a small fortune as he had given all his drachmae, which he had gotten through looting of the dead Athenians, for it. The way Pherenike looked at it, at him, was utterly worth it though.

 _“It is beautiful, Stentor, thank you.”_ She brushed over the carved beads with her right pointer finger. _“Ivory?”_

_“Yes, elephant ivory from Egypt. At least I was told it is.”_

_“I would even love it if it would be bone or wood.”_

He felt out of his depth. She was so close. A knee pressed against his thigh. Her smile was brighter than the sun and the moon combined. The faint scent of her perfume. Myrrh and something else he could not pinpoint.

_“Marry me.”_

The words were out before he could think too much about it. Red covered his cheek and neck, making him look like a poppy. And all he wished was to be able to take those words back because Pherenike looked so surprised by it. So, the necklace was not a gift to show him that she would like to marry him. And her wish that he would return with his shield and not on it was just politeness. He was a donkey just like Kassandra had said.

_“Yes, I would like that.”_

_“You -?”_

_“You sound rather surprised, Stentor. It took you rather long to find your courage to ask me to marry you. Though –”_ , humour glinted in her eyes, _“I said that I would marry the man who could beat me at a horse race.”_

_“Only Poseidon would manage it.”_

_“Most likely. But what use would I have of a god as husband if I could marry a serious Spartan, hm?”_

Pherenike was braver and more forward than him as she kissed him. To kiss her, to really kiss her, was better than any dream about it. He was a lucky man that a woman like her would marry him. He would sacrifice a couple of more doves to Aphrodite to thank her and to ensure a happy marriage.

**THE END.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bracelet: https://www.fashionlady.in/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/ivory-jewellery.jpg
> 
> Apparently roses and lilies were scents for men as perfume as they were light. Sweet marjoram, myrrh and amber were considered to be suiting for women. And given her status as a priestess, I found it very acceptable for Pherenike to wear perfume as well.


End file.
